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malefemale Camping Wetting


Guest Staravia

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Guest Staravia

At the beginning of summer, I went on a camping trip that I go regularly. Staying in a family based campsite there are regularly 40 - 50 of us in a field that get together and camp. I have my own large tent which I have to myself. However, as there are so many of us, we have a field to ourselves which means that the walk to the bathroom is of significant distance. No more than 3 - 4 minutes but enough that if you are really bursting to go; it can be a pretty close call. Over the years, I have had a few close calls but this year was a little different.

On the last night of the trip, we generally all get together and cook on BBQs, drink with a selection of music going on. On this particular year, I had a few ciders but nothing too drastic. I had drank but was well in my realms of concentration. Little to no alcohol impediment to my judgement. I enjoyed the evening, chucking Frisbees around, eating good food and talking with some great and fantastic friends. At the end of the evening, I joined my two best friends on the camp and wondered to the toilet block to brush teeth. I used the bathroom sensibly and wondered back up to our field. Saying goodnight to my friends, I clambered into my own tent. I decided that as I had drank some alcohol, that I best drink some water. I hate hangovers and trying to put away a tent with one sucks. A lot. I drank about half a litre of water, deciding that it should be enough to prevent a hangover and hopefully mean I don't need to wake up during the night. 

After this, I stripped (I still sleep naked while camping) and got into bed, falling asleep pretty easily. 

My body had other ideas however. I woke up at 3am in the morning. I really needed a wee but it was still dark so I knew it would be a go back to sleep moment to hold until it was time to get up. Looking at the time on my watch, seeing it was just after 3am, I decided to try and go back to sleep. Sliding my hands under the duvet and grabbed myself gently. This usually is enough to put me in a go to sleep mode if I slightly need to pee. However, camping meant that my body wasn't wanting to go back to sleep. The birds and noises of the sea (We are very close to a beach), meant I couldn't relax. I just got more and more desperate but like a stubborn little child I didn't want to get up. 

After 30 minutes or so, I found myself with my duvet grinding between my legs, a constant wiggle on the airbed that I was sleeping on. I was determined to hold on for as long as possible, but eventually realised that it was fruitless. Sighing in exasperation at my loss of sleepiness by getting up (I mean it was probably ruined by now already :D), I climbed out of my warm duvet to the cool and crisp tent surroundings. 

As soon as I got up, I knew I was in a little bit of trouble. The gravity change from lying on the floor to standing up was a lot. All of the cider and water had caught up, with a huge bladder bulge. It was almost painful as it sloshed around, begging for release. I had to find something to put on now. As it was still dark, I couldn't quite see. I knew I had some PJ somewhere that were good enough. I didn't want to put jeans on and try and button them. Here I am, stepping from foot to foot in desperation, naked, trying to feel along my cupboards for my PJ, grabbing myself each time an urge comes along. And they were coming along faster and faster. 

Eventually I find my top first, pulling that over my head. I grabbed myself as soon as it was on, knowing that my PJ bottoms cannot be that far. Finding them with my left hand, my right clamped around me I picked them up. Curses, they were inside out and I need both hands to undo them. Releasing myself, I crossed my legs, bending up and down in my desperation. As I was pulling one leg through the waist band it happened. I leaked as I bent down with my crossed legs. Letting go of my PJ, I grabbed myself and braced as hard as I could. I could feel the drip run down the insides of my leg. I really wanted to avoid leaking any more as I didn't want to get the inside of the tent wet. Especially the bedding area.

Regaining control, I quickly and quietly as possible slide my PJ trousers on, now the right way out and unzipped the bedroom section of my tent. Fortunately, the slip on shoes were in a logical place and other than dancing about as a madman in desperation nothing got worse. I got this I thought, I just am bloody desperate for a wee. Both shoes on I went to the front door and unzipped the tent. Bloody hell it was cold. 

This was too much for my body in desperation. I leaked again. Big this time, a full spurt. Ramming my one of my hands into my crotch, I crossed my legs and bent over. In my infinite wisdom I had grabbed my grey PJ trousers, not the black ones. It was lighter outside than I expected and I could just make out a stain under my hand that had gone down my left leg. I was seriously bursting for a wee now. Uncrossing my legs, hand still grabbing, I tried to rezip the tent door. With the sense of more leaks coming and my stepping from foot to foot not working to hold the desperation in, I gave this up. It was 3/4 the way down which at this time I sure was good enough. I set off down the field at a quick walking, my hand still between my legs. 

My bladder was sloshing all over the place, I could feel how heavy it was and how much I was bursting for a wee. I was at the stage where there were little tiny leaks coming from me constantly. No matter how much I held, there were short dribbles come out at all times. I still thought I could make it to the end of the field and the toilet block, I just prayed I didn't meet anyone as it would be clear I needed to wee really badly and had leaked before getting there. Even in the dim light it would be quite obvious. 

Half way down the field, a slight slope downwards, it hit me hard. I was walking on the grass to the side of the gravel road that ran through, and I completely spasmed. Like a little boy, I shoved both hands into my crotch, pulling my PJ trousers up my ankles a bit and crossed my legs around my hands. I really needed to wee. I could feel my trousers were quite damp under my hands now, but the stain hadn't gotten any bigger. I knew I had to make a break for it if I was going to make it. I was still a good 200m from the toilet block. 

Still fighting for control, I relaxed my hands and this was enough for my body to say 'that is that'. My bladder dropped. I regripped as hard as I could but to no avail. Pee poured out between my fingers, running in my trousers and pouring down my legs. I could hear it hissing out of me. I didn't want to completely empty so I gripped harder and tried to stop. This didn't work either. My trousers, were becoming more and more soaked, my hands completely drenched, it running between my fingers. I could feel it running over my crossed ankles, spraying around them and into my shoes. After a while, I sensed that I could have gained control and removed my hands. I could see, my grey trousers where completely soaked. Not a dry patch anywhere, in the very dull early morning light. I carried on peeing, it now freely splattering on the front as I peed forcefully. It felt like hours but was probably only a couple of minutes. 

After I had finished I realised how ridiculous I looked. I was stood in the middle of a field, with a small puddle, soaked PJs, at 3:30am in the morning. Fortunately, nobody had seen so I turn and wondered back to my tent. Things where much easier to open and close when I got back. I stripped and used a beach towel and dry and roll up my PJ for storage on the way home on the next day. 

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